


and the night air feels alive

by bullet (teii)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hackers, Alternate Universe - No Kaiju, Developing Relationship, M/M, Watch Dogs Legion AU, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 17:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teii/pseuds/bullet
Summary: “You’ll never guess what’s the big news on the Resistance comms today, Herms,” Newton cheerfully greets as Hermann opens the door to their shared apartment, still typing away on his laptop as Hermann walks in, and Hermann sighs, preparing himself for a gratuitous amount of teasing.“I haven’t the foggiest.”Newton shoots him a smirk followed with a playful wink. “Imperial College kids are all abuzz. Saying some real stuffy-looking professor at the South Kensington campus made an Albion guard eat propershitewith just his cane.” Newton shares, tongue touching teeth to emphasize the pronunciation. “I couldn’tpossiblybegin to guess who that might be.”--Watch Dogs Legion Inspired AU
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31





	and the night air feels alive

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this fic is based on Watch Dogs Legion whose release date got pushed back a bit so-- yes! This fic can be read without any knowledge of the Watch Dogs series, but if you want a quick dive into context/background of WD Legion in general, you can take a look at their [trailer for it](https://youtu.be/KbokXaPTk38). 

“HEY! YOU!”  
  


Hermann grits his teeth, but continues to walk forward, ignoring the guard. He had to, it was a matter of principle at this point. They’ve stationed a guard just about every few meters, Albion recently targeting university campuses all over London in an effort to quell protests. If Hermann took the time to stop and nicely listen to all the Albion thugs masquerading as the police in his way, he’d never get home.

“Oi! I’m talking to you!”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that, unfortunately,” Hermann bites back, trying to keep the venom out of his tone, “I assure you, sir, that you do not want to instigate an altercation with me today, I am not in the most forgiving of moods—”

The guard jams the butt of his rifle to the back of Hermann’s head, and luckily the reactive leg brace around Hermann’s knee stabilizes him from toppling over. Hermann gasps, blooms of pain spiraling out from his neck and he cradles the back of his neck, glad that when pulling his hand away it’s not covered in blood. The guard clumsily attempts to kick him down, but Hermann already has his cane out to block it. A flare of anger broils through him, and he snarls, “Do recall that I have warned you of the consequences of impeding me.” He whips around as he lightly tosses his cane into the air to grip it by the bottom end with two hands.

With a foot forward and a twist of his waist, he swings the titanium cane like a golf club, the cane’s head smashing straight into the guard’s jaw, hearing the sickening crack as he makes contact. The Albion guard staggers to the right, dazed, and Hermann takes the opportunity to step towards him, jabbing him hard in the chest, and again in the solar plexus with the bottom end of the cane. With the man doubled over and groaning, Hermann spins the cane in his hands 180 degrees to hook the guard’s right knee with the handle, wrenching upwards in a grand sweep, letting gravity drop the guard back down onto hard concrete.

Hermann catches his breath, adrenaline ebbing out of his bloodstream. He hasn’t done anything like that in years, and yet the movement came back to him so readily. Some of the students still nearby start clapping and cheering, and his ears quickly go red at the attention, mortified at the realization that he had an audience to his little show. 

“Hell yeah! Go Dr. G!” 

Oh Christ, he’s been identified.

Scowling even as his blush deepens, he pulls his scarf up to the bridge of his nose, and not-so-accidentally trods on the guards fingers as he leaves the campus, quickening his pace as he hurries back to his flat.

\--

“You’ll never guess what’s the big news on the Resistance comms today, Herms,” Newton cheerfully greets as Hermann opens the door to their shared apartment, still typing away on his laptop as Hermann walks in, and Hermann sighs, preparing himself for a gratuitous amount of teasing.

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

Newton shoots him a smirk followed with a playful wink. “Imperial College kids are all abuzz. Saying some real stuffy-looking professor at the South Kensington campus made an Albion guard eat proper _shite _ with just his cane.” Newton shares, tongue touching teeth to emphasize the pronunciation. “I couldn’t _possibly_ begin to guess who that might be.”

“Must be some dastardly no-gooder who should be reviled by the greater society,” Hermann loftily shoots back, dragging himself despite his protesting knee to the shoe cabinets to exchange his loafers for slippers.

But Newton drops all pretenses of being cool about it, closing his laptop and scrambling over the living room couch. “Ok, but you gotta tell me, how was it?! I’m dying for a usage report here-- on a scale of one to awesome, how was the weight distribution? I designed it with all the holes in the middle to keep it lightweight but--”

"It's almost seven in San Francisco," Hermann murmurs mostly to himself as his eyes flicker down to his watch, before heading towards his own bedroom and closing the door shut. Newton glares at the door, before twisting back onto the couch in a huff, slouching as he droops further off the couch. 

Hermann has been...acting weird for a couple of months.

It had been so fucking cool at first, that after years of email correspondence and being in the same damn country and yet never meeting face to face that Hermann straight up accepted Newton’s plan of them sharing a flat together to join Dedsec London as a hacker/programmer duo. The first six months living and working together had to be the most fun in his entire life, the chance to finally collaborate with someone who could keep up with him, even if they argued the whole time. Days camped out in their living room, slowly losing their minds after 65 consecutive hours of being awake, giggling at every stupid, dumb misspelling or errant typo that showed up in their code and preventing each other from throwing their computers straight out of the window from frustration. There was something there, between them and the billions of mg of caffeine they’ve both ingested. There had to be.

And then, Newton was pinged by Bagley to step in for Mako on an ops run. It was meant to only be a one-off thing, but Newton was hooked, asking for more missions, but things with Hermann all but grinded to a halt, and pretty soon, they weren’t even talking to each other anymore.

It wasn’t for the lack of trying, though, Newton’s gone over the speech about Hermann totally being capable of anything Newton could do about a thousand and one times, that they’d _kick so much ass together_, but Hermann didn’t take too kindly to the pep talk, pointedly tapping his cane onto the ground in sharp clicks, eyes glaring at Newton, “Don’t _mock _me, Gieszler.”

Newton still wasn’t deterred, head still full of borderline-anime protagonist ‘together we can do anything’ mantras. All Hermann really needed was a spark, inspiration to join in even. Newton planned it for months, the design, sourcing the raw materials, scrounging around the internet for all the components, then finally shutting himself inside the 3D printing lab for three whole days to make the damn thing, revisions and all.

Finally presenting the 3D-printed cane complete with an onslaught of bells and whistles to Hermann on the night of his birthday, Newton had probably been a bit too optimistic he was going to get a good reception. Even went out on a limb and picked up a small black forest cake from that bakery he knew Hermann liked.

Instead, Hermann had turned an alarming shade of purplish-red, as if he’s about to snap Newton’s head off at any second.

He clutched the cane in his hands, knuckles white, spat out ‘thank you’ as if it was a curse, then promptly turned heel to shut himself in his room.

Newton ate the whole cake by himself, he didn’t give a fuck, pissed at himself for spending so much time on that goddamn cane and quietly mourning his barely amicable relationship with Hermann was apparently now irreparable, because who the fuck gets angry at getting a dope-ass weapon-disguised-as-a-cane as a present? 

But every day since, Hermann has been using Newton’s cane, his old one propped up in the foyer with the umbrellas. Newton’s baffled, but not wanting to cause a scene doesn’t bring it up, even though he’s dying for a reaction, anything, even if it’s bad. But Hermann never gave him any indication if he loves or hates it, or if he’s just using it to placate Newton, as if out of obligation, and he thinks that’s worse than anything else, the pity.

He doesn’t need Hermann feeling_ bad _for him.

And now, Hermann cloisters himself in his dark room for hours on end like some shut-in, without an explanation as to why, and Newton feels like he’s been left out of something...he doesn’t know what exactly but--.

“Good evening, Dr. Gieszler!” A chipper voice rings out through the Dedsec earpiece, and he lightly presses it more securely into his right ear, “fancy a night out tonight? It’s gearing up to be quite the showstopper.”

Newton sighs. “Hey, Bagley,” he greets the AI, “what’s on the agenda?”

“Oh, the usual: mayhem, espionage, possibly a bit of arson?”

Newton has to grin despite himself. That does sound like a good night out.

\--

Newton’s about ready to head out, shrugging on his favorite leather jacket as he hums softly under his breath, just as Hermann walks out of his room.

Newton stops humming, mood souring, and gives his roommate a short wave. “Hey.”

Hermann stiffly nods in return, “Hello.”

“Heading out. Leftover curry and like two pieces of naan’s in the fridge, help yourself.” 

“Do make sure you come back in one piece,” Hermann murmurs as Newton passes him. The younger man stills, before turning back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I hope you come back, so you can at least pay the rent this month,” Hermann says, as he makes his way towards the kitchen.

Newton throws his hands up, fed up. “Look, I know I was pushy as hell to get you to be an operative with me, and I get it now, I know that’s not what you want, and I’m sorry that the battle-cane I made you must have made it look like I wanted you to join me, and it’s not like that-- I actually wanted to-- well, shit, I just--” _miss the hell out of you._ “Don’t understand why you never want to talk to me anymore.”

Hermann stands there, rooted to the floor, stunned into silence.

“_What?_"

Newton waves his hands around, “Well it’s just that like, you keep locking yourself in your room, and barely even look at me anymore, and like-- you gotta be frank with me. What the hell did I do? Can I-- could I fix it somehow? Is it something we need to like-- discuss moving out about?”

“No!” Hermann shouts, and Newton jumps slightly, “No, I--” Hermann starts, flushing at his own outburst, twisting his cane into the hardwood floor, “I was frustrated with you, though moreso of myself, but I never meant to make you think that I didn’t like your cane or that I…was avoiding you.” He shakes his head, frowning deeply at his own shoes. “On the contrary, this is possibly the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.”

“Wait,” Newton pushes up his glasses with his palm, intrigued, “you...mean it?”

“Why would take it everywhere with me?”

Newton shrugs, “Because you felt bad for me? Look man, I’m not a mind reader.”

Hermann grimaces, guilt in his eyes. “It’s-- I figured that the only real way to show my appreciation was to make something at least half-way functional. But I didn’t have a lot of time on my hands, and it was difficult to get everything working correctly. I don’t know if I’ve successfully accomplished what I set out to do, but even so--” Hermann makes his way back towards his room, and emerging with a motorcycle helmet in his hands.

“Your birthday isn’t for another two weeks, and I’m not quite finished with it, but…” Hermann shakes his head, holding the helmet out further for Newton to take. “Happy Birthday, Newton. Try it out, if you’d like.”

Newton looks over at Hermann who’s nodding his head, both hands on his cane as he waits patiently. Newton shrugs, before slipping the helmet over his head.

The Jaeger OS comes online, along with the four tone start-up jingle and the screen is lit up with the mission parameters and map to the data center already downloaded into the system, now displayed onto the helmet’s visor.

“Woah,” Newton breathes out, his voice coming out slightly robotic through the built-in voice modulator, as his eyes flickering about as he tries to take it all in, and the helmet even seemed to have eye tracking functions, able to switch between different modes of nearby camera feeds, the latest Resistance updates, and hackable apparatuses in the vicinity. “You programmed all this in what-- three months?! Dude!”

“Yes, well, it could have been better if I had a bit more time to tinker--”

“No, I meant, like holy shit man,” Newton laughs, pulling off the helmet leaving his bangs sticking straight up, “this is crazy awesome. I can’t believe you did all this for me. Thanks, dude.”

“It was the absolute least I could do,” Hermann says, attempting to sound casual, but his voice still carries a hint of pride, and Newton can’t help but beam back, before a thought comes back to him.

“Ok, but seriously dude, I’ve been reading up on some first-hand accounts, and some people have been saying the way you moved to take out that guard looked ...well-practiced.” Newton snaps his fingers, an idea sparking across his brain, “Are you like some super secret spy or something?!”

Hermann scoffs, crossing his arms, and Newton sheepishly grins, shrugging his shoulders, “Or heir to some mafia family? Iunno man, like, apparently it looked kind of fluidly professional.”

Hermann leans against the doorway, right shoulder cocked upwards, giving Newton a sly half-smile, “You should probably go now, Operative Gieszler.”

The words tumble out before Newton could stop himself: “How ‘bout you come with me?”

Hermann’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Yeah like. ‘Coz.” Newton fidgets. “...We have two helmets now?”

“That we do.” Hermann agrees, looking away, and Newton nervously rubs his thumb along the edges of the helmet, “am I supposed to just wait for you as you dash inside?”

“If you want to join me, feel free, and if not you could provide moral support. Or like technical support for this thing.”

Hermann smirks, “With an ego like yours, do you still need moral support?”

“Never hurts to have more!” Newton tilts his head, thumb jerked towards the door as he raises his eyebrows, and Hermann sighs, but not without picking up the house keys off the hook by door.

\--

As Newton swings a leg over onto the bike, typing in his password onto the holo-dash, Hermann gingerly sits in the back, cane in his lap has he frowns. “I never did like this thing.”

“Of course you don’t,” Newton grins, throwing Hermann his helmet that’s covered in Dedsec stickers and spray paint, “but you will someday.” 

Hermann lets out a huff of disbelief, as he adjusts the helmet’s strap, pushing down the visor.

“Hold on tight!” Newton shouts as his only warning before the engine roars to life, and the bike shoots forward, weaving in between the cars, racing past them. Hermann yelps behind him, instinctively clutching fistfuls of Newton’s jacket and presses a cheek against Newton’s shoulder, terrified of falling off.

The wind rushes across his neck and up his arms and after awhile, Hermann’s grip relaxes as they cruise alongside the Thames, the London Eye lit up across the river, and Newton can hear a soft ‘oh’ coming from Hermann, and he cranes his neck slightly, “y’wanna stop for a selfie?”

“Just drive, Newton.”

\--

  
  


He was so fucking _close_.

No guards alerted, all the cameras patiently turned off one by one, and a keycard just left out on the front desk of all things, and he was in and plugged into Albion’s system and the little virus he’s installed onto the USB he brought along was now merrily deleting files left and right. Now it was just the tiny little matter of getting out undetected…

“Shit!” Newton curses, as an alarm above his head starts blaring and he books it to the exit, as his super dope spy playlist he had playing cuts off abruptly-- 

Only for the Benny Hill theme song to start blasting instead.

“Oh my fucking god, Hermann!” Newton laughs, turning on his AR cloak as he dodges gunfire on his way back to his getaway motorcycle.

“Yes, Newton?” Hermann’s voice pipes in, impossibly smug.

“Just you fucking wait til I get back, holy shit,” Newton breathlessly gasps, not sure whether to laugh or cry, “I can’t believe you programmed that in!”

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think you’d trigger that one _on the first night_.”

“Asshole,” Newton sighs, impossibly fond, and with a new burst of speed, slams open the rooftop access door and races towards the ledge, breathing in deep as he psyches himself up for the jump.

And the night air feels alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [More notes about this AU](https://savant.dreamwidth.org/27167.html), if you're interested.
> 
> [xoxo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM7Eh0gGNKA)


End file.
